THE  LIBRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF 

North  Carolina 

°^  v 


UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

«  . 

School  of    Library 
Sciea«« 


\ 


INSTRUCTION 


AMUSEMENT  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


A  SERIES  OF 


IMPROVING    TALES. 


EMBELLISHED   WITH   SEVERAL   BEAUTIFUL   ENGRAVINGS. 


■m- 


QrCciv-OXbavciv. 


PRINTED  AND  PUBLISHED  BY  S     BABCOCK. 


■^V^»%i^»^'V%^<V*<*^W**VW^^Vwffi< 


INSTRUCTION 


AMUSEMENT    FOR    THE    YOUNG. 

JULIA     ROSCOE; 

OR     THE     CARELESS     LITTLE     GIRL. 

Julia,  when  very  young,  contracted  a  habit  oi 
carelessness,  which  her  mother  vainly  endeavor- 
ed to  correct.  Though  of  an  extremely  sweet  and 
docile  disposition,  she  was  also  very  lively  and 
volatile  in  her  temper :  so  much  so,  that  her  pa- 
rents were  afraid  if  this  careless  turn  were  not 
corrected,  it  might  produce  very  unhappy  conse- 
quences. One  morning,  the  following  conversation 
took  place  between  Julia  and  her  mother  : 

11  Julia,  my  dear,  did  you  put  the  china  cups  in 
the  closet  when  I  told  you  ?" 

^_      Julia  started.     "  Oh  !  I  forgot !" 

7         "  Where  did  you  leave  them  ?" 

•         "I  believe — I  left  them  in  the  nursery — yes,  I 

^  did,  mamma  ;  but  I'll  go  and  put  them  up  this  min- 

^ute." 

^  "  Stay,"  said  her  mother  ;  "  it  is  too  late.  You 
left  them  on  the  window-seat  ;  and  little  Henry,  in 
lifting  his  hobby-horse  down,  overturned  them : 
they  are  broken." 

t4  Brr,k2n,  mamma !  I  am  very  sorry  " 


4  JULTA   ROSCOE. 

"  Yes,  Julia,  I  believe  you  are  sorry  ;  but  make 
this  sorrow  of  use  to  you.  It  is  true  the  broken 
cups  can  not  be  restored ;  but  let  it  be  a  warning 
to  you  in  future.  If  you  indulge  this  careless  dis- 
position, you  will  not  only  suffer  from  it  yourself, 
but  it  will  be  a  constant  source  of  trouble  to 
others." 

"  0  mamma  !  I  will  mind — indeed  I  will,"  cried 
Julia,  throwing  her  little  arms  round  her  mother's 
neck  :  "  only  forgive  me  this  once,  I'll  promise" — 

"  No,  Julia,"  said  her  mother,  kissing  her,  "  I 
exact  no  rash  promises,  for  a  habit  is  not  conquer- 
ed in  a  day :  only  do  your  best  to  improve,  and  I 
shall  be  satisfied." 

Time  passed  on  ;  Julia  grew  older,  and  no  very 
bad  effects  resulted  from  her  carelessness.  Her 
mother  gladly  hoped  that  the  habit  was  conquered  ; 
(>ut,  alas  !  Julia's  dolls  and  other  toys,  work-boxes, 
&c,  constantly  scattered  about  the  floor, — her  torn 
frocks  and  disorderly  drawers,  all  bore  woeful  wit- 
ness to  the  contrary.  Her  cloak,  hat,  gloves,  &c. 
were  always  strewed  about  the  room,  and  she  spent 
more  time  in  seeking  for  the  things  she  had  mislaid, 
and  had  more  trouble,  too,  than  it  would  have  cost 
her  to  conquer  this  bad  habit. 

One  day  her  father  asked  her  to  copy  a  manu- 
script for  him,  saying,  with  a  smile,  "  Try,  Julia, 
for  once,  if  you  can  keep  the  paper  clean  ;  it  is  a 
shame  to  blot  such  good  writing  as  yours  is." 

"  0,  papa!  there  shall  not  be  a  spot  upon  it: 
you  know  I  never  blot  my  paper  when  I  am  writ- 
ing for  you." 

"  Well,  we  shall  see,"  said  her  father. 

Julia  did,  indeed,  copy  it  uncommonly  well ;  there 
was  not  a  stain  upon  it ;  and  she  was  just  finishing, 
when  her  sister  Caroline  entered  the  room 


Way 


<SAEMl§g  2T&MA* 


Irill'iilHlliiiiir'PIII'illi: 


REPROOT 


Fage  3. 


WRITING 


Page  4 


6  JULIA  ROSCOE. 

"  0,"  cried  she,  "  is  not  this  well  written,  sister  1 
How  pleased  papa  will  be  when  he  sees  it !" 

"  Very  neat,  indeed,  my  dear  Julia  !  Have  you 
quite  done  ?" 

"  Yes,  all  but  two  or  three  lines.  0  !  this  pen  ! 
what  an  ugly  D  I  have  made  !  However,"  cried 
she,  looking  at  it  with  complacency,  "  I  think  it  is 
the  only  bad  letter  in  it." 

"  Now  it  is  quite  finished,  then,"  said  Caroline, 
"  I  came  to  tell  you  that  the  old  pedlar  is  here.  I 
would  not  tell  you  till  you  had  finished,  lest  in 
your  hurry" — 

"  The  old  pedlar  !  is  he  ?"  cried  Julia,  starting 
up ;  and,  turning  abruptly,  she  overturned  the  ink- 
stand. Her  writing  fortunately  escaped  ;  but  the 
black  streams  flowed  over  Caroline's  white  dress, 
and  thence  rolled  quickly  to  the  floor.  Julia  stood 
in  silent  consternation,  and  then  began  to  lament 
the  accident  very  loudly.  "  And  your  dress  too, 
Caroline  !  I  am  so  sorry  :  I  can't  think  how  it 
happened.  Dear  me  !  and  your  new  dress  too ! 
what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

Caroline,  in  the  mean  time,  had  been  endea- 
voring to  prevent  the  mischief  from  spreading 
farther,  by  taking  up  the  inkstand  and  wiping  the 
carpet.  She  now  assured  Julia,  with  great  good- 
nature, that  her  dress  was  not  spoiled  ;  that  she 
could  easily  get  the  stains  out ;  and  that,  if  she 
would  go  to  the  pedlar,  who  was  waiting  below, 
she  would  wipe  up  the  ink  herself. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Caroline  !  how  good  this  is 
of  you  !" 

"  But,"  said  Caroline,  as  Julia  was  leaving  the 
room,  "  had  you  not  better  put  your  writing 
away?  My  hands  are  covered  with  ink,  and  I 
can  not  touch  it.' 


JULIA   R0SCOE.  7 

"  O  !  never  mind,"  cried  Julia,  skipping  out  of 
the  room ;  and  she  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

At  tea-time  her  father  inquired  for  the  manu- 
script :  Julia  went  to  fetch  it ;  but  it  could  not  be 
found.  At  last  she  was  obliged  to  return  to  the 
drawing-room,  and  own,  with  much  confusion,  that 
it  was  no  where  to  be  found. 

"  It  must  be  found,"  said  her  father  ;  "  it  is  of 
great  consequence.     Where  did  you  put  it  ?" 

"  I  forgot  to  put  it  up,"  said  Julia  :  "  I  left  it  on 
the  writing-table." 

"  This  comes  of  carelessness-,  Julia/'  said  her 
father,  in  an  angry  tone. 

Julia,  in  great  distress,  made  another  search  for 
the  papers  ;  but  in  vain,  when,  as  she  was  slowly 
and  sadly  returning  to  her  father  to  announce  her 
bad  success,  she  heard  light  footsteps  approaching, 
and  presently  some  one  reached  over  her  shoulder, 
and  presented  the  papers  before  her  delighted  eyes. 

"  Caroline,  where  could  you  find  them  ?" 

11  I  recollected  seeing  you  writing  on  a  music 
book  ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  thought  occurred  to  me, 
I  went  and  looked  through  all  the  music  books,  and 
at  last  found  it  just  where  you  left  it." 

"  Thank  you  a  thousand  times  !"  exclaimed  Julia, 
running  on  with  far  quicker  and  lighter  steps. 

"  Stop,  Julia,"  said  her  sister  ;  "  one  word, — if 
you  had  but  put  it  up  in  your  desk,  how  much 
trouble  would  have  been  spared  !" 

"  Yes,  it  is  all  very  true  ;  but  I  am  so  glad  k  is 
found  after  all.  I  think  my  careless  habit  is 
cured."     Alas!  no;  Julia  was  far  from  being  cured. 

One  day  Julia's  father  said,  "  I  am  going  to  see 
an  iron-foundry  this  morning  ;  and,  as  the  process 
of  moulding  is  curious,  I  will  take  you  with  me.  I 
am  going  directly  ;  so  net  ready." 


a 


JAIEHEJlSg  OTZJL&. 


CARELESSNESS. 


Page  4. 


JULIA    ROSCOE.  9 

Julia  was  quite  delighted.  Caroline,  more  trail 
<mil  in  her  joy,  cheerfully  left  the  room  to  put  on 
her  hat  and  cloak  ;  she  then  returned  into  the  par- 
lor ;  and  Julia  soon  came  running  down  stairs,  ex- 
claiming, "  Caroline !  Caroline  !  have  you  seen 
my  gloves  ?" 

"  .No,"  said  Caroline. 

"T'hen  they  are  certainly  lost ;  for  I  have  look- 
ed for  them  every  where." 

"  I  will  lend  you  a  pair,"  said  her  sister. 

"  No,  Caroline,"  said  her  mother  ;  "  Julia  must 
take  the  consequences  of  her  negligence.  Take 
your  choice,  Julia  :  either  go  without  your  gloves, 
or  remain  at  home." 

As  she  finished  speaking,  the  door  opened,  and 
Julia's  father  entered.  "  Come,  girls,  are  you 
ready  ?"  Caroline  rose  ;  and  Julia,  in  confusion, 
silently  followed. 

"  Julia,  where  are  your  gloves  ?  said  her  father. 

She  has  lost  them,"  answered  her  mother ; 
M  but  I  have  given  her  leave  to  go." 

Julia  colored  deeply. 

"  O  careless  Julia  !"  said  her  father. 

It  was  a  cold  frosty  morning;  and  bitterly  did 
Julia  feel  the  want  of  her  warm-lined  gloves  :  in 
fact,  the  cold  she  experienced  was  so  severe,  and 
the  shame  she  suffered,  in  appearing  with  uncov- 
ered hands,  was  so  unpleasant,  that  poor  Julia  had 

little  enjoyment  in  her  visit  to  the  foundry. 
•  *  *  *  • 

* .  * .  *  * 

One  night  the  family  were  alarmed  by  the  cry  of 

"  fire  !"  One  of  the  servants  said  she  had  been 
awakened  by  the  flames.  On  examination,  it  was 
found  that  the  fire  originated  in  the  library,  and  was 
rapidly  spreading  to  the  next  room.  The  only  per- 
l* 


10  JULIA    ROSCO£ 

son  in  danger  was  little  Henry,  who  slept  in  this 
small  room.  Julia's  father  was  in  another  part  oi 
the  house  procuring  water,  and  giving  directions  to 
the  servants  :  her  mother,  half  fainting,  could  hard- 
ly support  herself;  and  the  servants  all  recoiled 
with  horror.  Caroline  turned  pale  and  trembled. 
Julia  alone,  unappalled  by  the  idea  of  dangej|  re- 
solved to  save  him  or  perish.  A  moment's  delay 
might  be  fatal  :  she  caught  a  blanket,  wrapped  it 
around  her  slender  form,  and  darted  through  the 
fire.  In  a  few  minutes,  she  appeared  again,  carry- 
ing her  brother  in  her  arms.  She  arrived  safe  on 
the  landing,  and  gave  him  to  his  mother. 

It  was  now  the  dawn  of  day,  and  the  fire  was 
at  length  completely  extinguished,  without  having 
caused  so  much  damage  as  had  been  apprehended. 
The  family  were  all  assembled  together,  and  they 
began  to  busy  themselves  in  conjectures  of  what 
could  have  occasioned  the  fire.  Julia's  father  said 
he  had  been  examining  some  papers,  and  had  pro- 
bably let  a  spark  drop  among  them  :  M  however," 
added  he,  "  whatever  occasioned  it,  I  am  sure  our 
best  thanks  are  due  to  Julia  for  her  noble  and  cour- 
ageous conduct.  Who  would  think  that  one  so 
young,  possessed  such  spirit  and  presence  of  mind!" 
Her  mother  and  sister  eagerly  joined  in  praising 
Julia,  who  received  their  praises  with  modest  plea- 
sure ;  but  suddenly  she  turned  very  pale. 

"  I  know,"  she  cried  :  she  could  sa^  no  more  ; 
her  voice  faltered,  and  she  could  hardly  stand. 

Caroline  supported  her,  and  said,  u  Julia !  deal 
Julia  !  you  have  burned  yourself,  I  fear." 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  but  I  was  the  cause  of  the 
fire.  I  was  reading  in  the  study  very  late,  and 
sitting  bv  the  table,  between  the  windows.     Before 


THE  OBSTINATE  GIRL.  11 

I  went  to  bed,  I  fetched  little  Henry's  candle ;  for 
Nurse  was  ill.  I  took  it  with  me  and  left  my  own 
in  the  study.  I  forgot  it :  it  was  a  windy  night  : 
the  window  curtains" — She  said  no  more,  but  b*irst 
into  tears. 

Her  father  and  mother  saw  that  there  was  no 
need  of  reproaches  :  she  felt  sufficiently,  and  mc  ire 
because  her  parents  judiciously  refrained  from  ;  11 
blame.  From  that  day,  Julia  was,  indeed,  curea  ; 
she  exerted  herself  much  at  iirst ;  and,  at  last,  i 
became  as  habitual  to  her  to  be  careful,  prudent 
and  orderly,  as  it  had  once  been  to  be  careless 
forgetful  and  negligent. 


THE    OBSTINATE    GIRL 

A    FAMILY    STORY. 

My  grand  mother  was  left  a  widow,  with  a  large 
young  family.  She  endeavored  to  bring  them  up 
"in  the  way  they  should  go,  that  when  they  grew 
old  they  might  not  depart  from  it."  These  words, 
my  young  readers,  you  will  find  in  the  proverbs  of 
that  wisest  of  men,  Solomon,  which  are  so  pleasant 
to  read,  thajt  when  I  was  young,  like  many  of  you, 
I  committed  many  of  the  chapters  to  memory — not 
as  a  task,  but  as  a  pleasure.  Now  my  grandmother's 
father  was  a  pious  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  like 
nis  divine  master,  he  had  not  only  preached  the 
gospel  to  his  flock  and  his  family,  but  both  by  pre- 
cept and  example  he  aimed  at  imitating  his  godlike 


V2 


HUNGER  AND   OBSTINACY.         Fage  13.     J 

\ 

m<STOj&  Aim  FH'inEiBo 


BATTLE    OF    THE  BEACH.         Fage  14     £ 

M 


THE  OBSTINATE  GIRL.  13 

qualities,  and  was  scrupulously  attentive  to  the  edu- 
cation of  his  children.  My  grandmother  was  help- 
ed one  day  at  dinner  to  a  leg  of  fowl,  which  she 
refused  to  eat,  and  got  in  a  pet,  because  her  father 
would  not  give  her  the  breast — this  was  very 
naughty  conduct,  both  towards  her  heavenly  father, 
whose  blessing  had  been  invoked  on  the  meat  be- 
fore her,  and  towards  her  earthly  parent,  whose 
authority  and  better  judgment  she  thus  attempted  to 
resist.  But  what  do  you  think  her  good  father  did  ? 
I  will  tell  you — he  ordered  the  leg  to  be  laid  by  for 
supper,  and  forbade  Miss  from  being  supplied  with 
any  food  until  she  consented  to  eat  it.  Miss  contin- 
ued obstinate  for  nearly  all  the  next  day,  but  in  the 
evening  she  eagerly  asked  for  the  despised  leg, 
begged  pardon  and  never  offended  again— being 
made  sensible,  that  she  should  be  grateful  and  thank- 
ful to  the  Giver  of  all  good,  for  so  many  more  of  the 
good  things  of  this  life,  with  which  she  was  provi- 
ded, than  thousands  of  her  fellow  creatures  were 
blessed  with.  I  remember  children,  when  a  plate 
of  bread  and  butter,  or  of  cake,  was  handed  to  me, 
I  was  obliged  to  take  the  piece  next  to  me,  without 
choosing,  and  am  grateful  to  the  memory  of  my  dear 
parents,  for  requiring  me  to  do  so,  and  so  will  all 
good  boys  and  girls,  when  they  grow  up  to  be  men 
and  women,  be  thankful  for  their  fathers,  mothers, 
or  friends,  who  take  the  trouble  to  instruct  them  in 
what  is  right,  and  not  only  in  great,  but  what  might 
seem  to  them,  trifling  matters. 


14 


HECTOR  AND  PETER, 

OR  THE  BATTLE  ON  THE  BEACH. 

"Begone,  you  little  ragged  urchin, — you  have  no 
right  to  come  prawning  on  the  sands  before  our 
villa,  and,  if  I  find  you  here  again,  you  shall  ieel 
my  horsewhip  about  your  shoulders  !" 

This  threat  was  uttered  by  Master  Hector  Le- 
brun,  a  young  gentleman  about  ten  years  of  age. 
The  boy  he  threatened  was  rather  younger  than 
himself,  but  this  was  no  imputation  upon  his  cour- 
age, for  Peter  Bluff  was  quite  as  tall,  and,  as  the 
event  proved,  more  than  a  match  for  the  proud 
Hector  Lebrun. 

Peter  Bluff  was  a  good-natured,  quick-witted  boy, 
and  answered  Hector's  threat  with  a  loud  laugh, 
telling  him  that  the  beach  was  free  to  every  one, 
and  that  he  should  fish  for  prawns  wherever  he 
thought  there  was  a  chance  of  catching  them ; 
"  and,  as  for  your  horsewhip,"  continued  Peter, 
"  you  had  better  keep  that  at  home,  or  you  may, 
perhaps,  bring  a  whip  for  your  own  back !" 

"  You  insolent  ragmuffin,"  cried  Hector,  in  a 
rage,  "do  you  dare  to  talk  in  this  way  to  the  son  of 
a  gentleman,  a  captain  in  the  army,  while  your 
father  is  only  a  dirty,  half-starved  fisherman !  li 
you  don't  be  gone  without  another  word,  I'll  beat 
you  till  you  are  black  and  blue." 

"  Poh  !  poh !"  said  Peter,  "  I  do'nt  care  a  straw 
for  your  threats,  and  I  shall  stay  here  as  long  as  I 
please,  in  spite  of  the  son  of  a  gentleman  /" 

This  sneer  so  enraged  Hector,  that  he  assailed 
Peter  with  great  fury,  while  the  latter  defended 
himself  most  gallantly,   knocking  Master   Hector 


HECTOR  AND  PETER.  15 

flat  on  his  back  at  the  first  onset.  How  long  the 
battle  would  have  continued,  or  which  of  the  heroes 
would  have  finally  been  the  victor,  can  not  be  told, 
for  in  the  very  heat  of  the  encounter,  the  voice  of 
Captain  Lebrun  put  an  end  to  the  combat. 

"  Cease  fighting  this  instant,  I  command  you 
both,"  said  he. 

The  two  boys,  panting  for  breath,  ceased  at  his 
bidding,  and  each  was  eager  to  excuse  himself  and 
blame  his  opponent. 

"  Silence  !"  said  Captain  Lebrun  ;  "  there  is  no 
occasion  for  either  of  you  to  explain  the  cause  of 
your  quarrel.  I  was  sitting  in  the  veranda,  and 
overheard  the  whole  of  it.  Hector,  you  were  the 
aggressor  ;  you  had  no  right  to  threaten  Peter,  or 
upbraid  him  for  his  poverty  ;  but  as  he  has  proved 
that  he  has  the  power  to  protect  himself,  and,  if  I 
may  judge  from  your  appearance,  to  punish  you  for 
your  folly,  I  will  say  no  more  about  it.  Come, 
Peter,  my  boy,  Hector  is  sorry  for  what  he  said  ; 
here  is  a  shilling  for  you,  my  brave  fellow  :  when 
Hector  is  a  year  or  two  older,  he  will  be  ashamed 
of  boasting  of  his  own  riches,  or  insulting  honest 
poverty." 

The  kindness  of  Captain  Lebrun  subdued  the 
sturdy  Peter  ;  his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  he  de- 
clared if  it  was  displeasing  to  the  Captain,  he  would 
never  prawn  in  front  of  the  villa  again. 

"  No,  no,  Peter;  prawn  where  you  like,  my  brave 
boy,  the  beach  is  open  to  all,"  said  the  Captain  ; 
then,  turning  to  the  mortified  Hector,  he  continued, 
"  do  not  stand  crying  there,  but  shake  hands  with 
Peter,  and  let  him  go  about  his  business." 

**  He  knocked  me  down,"  cried  Hector,  "  and  I 
can  not  forgive  him." 


16  HECTOR  AND  PETER. 

"  For  shame,  boy  ;  you  were  the  aggressor,  and 
Peter  has  forgiven  your  petulance,  while  you  retain 
your  anger !" 

"  I  will  shake  hands  with  him  now,  papa,  be- 
cause you  wish  it,  but  when   I  am   a  man  I'll — " 

"  Treat  him  as  an  old  friend  I  hope,"  said  the 
Captain,  finishing  the  half  uttered  sentence,  "and 
laugh  at  the  battle  on  the  beach.  Good  day,  Peter  !" 

The  crest-fallen  Hector  followed  his  father  into 
the  villa,  and  Peter  made  the  best  of  his  way  to 
his  parents'  hut  upon  the  beach,  where  he  trium- 
phantly displayed  the  shilling  which  the  Captain  had 
given  him  as  the  reward  of  valor. 

A  i^ew  days  after  the  occurrence  I  have  just  related, 
Captain  Lebrun  received  an  order  from  the  govern- 
ment to  attend  at  the  War-office  at  Paris  upon  busi- 
ness of  importance,  which  obliged  him  ultimate- 
ly to  take  up  his  residence  in  that  city  ;  and, 
when  Hector  arrived  at  the  proper  age,  he  was 
placed  as  a  pupil  in  the  celebrated  Polytechnic 
school,  and  gained  great  approbation  from  the  learn- 
ed professor  of  that  establishment  for  his  perseve- 
rance and  attainments.  At  the  age  of  eighteen,  he 
was  rewarded  by  a  commission  in  the  French  army, 
and  at  his  own  solicitation  was  attached  to  a  regi- 
ment then  under  orders  to  join  the  expedition 
against  Algiers. 

It  is  unnecessary  for  my  tale  that  I  should  de- 
scribe the  city  of  Algiers,  or  give  an  account  of 
the  embarkation  and  landing  of  the  troops  that  were 
sent  to  take  the  place.  It  is  sufficient  for  me  to 
say  that  Hector  Lebrun  proved  himself  a  most  ac- 
tive and  useful  officer,  and  that,  previous  to  the 
storming  of  the  city,  it  was  considered  necessary 
that  a  strong  fortress  which  commanded  one  of  the 


HECTOR  AND  PETER.  17 

principal  entrances  to  the  city,  should  be  got  pos- 
session of,  and  the  regiment  in  which  Hector 
served,  was  ordered  to  undertake  this  dangerous 
operation.  The  Algerines  defended  the  fort  with 
great  bravery,  and,  as  they  were  excellent  marks- 
men, aimed  particularly  at  the  French  officers.  So 
many  of  them  were  killed,  that  Hector  found  him- 
self the  senior  officer  of  the  regiment.  So  de- 
structive had  been  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  and  so 
great  the  loss  sustained  by  the  French,  that  the  sol- 
diers were  about  to  shrink  from  the  contest.  Hec- 
tor gallantly  rallied  the  men,  and  by  bravely  ascend- 
ing the  scaling  ladder  which  led  to  the  place  from 
whence  proceeded  the  most  determined  defense, 
he  raised  the  drooping  courage  of  the  soldiers,  and 
incited  them  to  make  one  more  effort.  He  was 
eagerly  followed  by  the  troops,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes gaining  footing,  the  French  flag  waved  tri 
umphantly  over  the  battlement,  and  the  victory  ap- 
peared secure.  At  this  moment,  however,  the  gates 
of  the  city  were  thrown  open,  and  a  numerous  body 
of  Algerines  attacked  the  besiegers  of  the  fort. 
The  French  soldiers  were  panic-struck  at  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  fresh  reinforcement,  and  being 
greatly  exhausted  by  their  former  exertions,  made 
a  hasty  retreat,  leaving  Hector  and  the  few  brave 
fellows  who  followed  him  into  the  fortress,  in  the 
hands  of  the  enraged  Algerines,  who  would  have 
putthem  to  instant  death,  had  not  the  Algerine  chief, 
in  the  hope  of  making  an  advantage  of  his  prison- 
ers, rescued  them  from  the  fury  of  his  soldiers. 
Hector  was  separated  from  his  companions,  and 
conducted  to  a  dungeon  on  that  side  of  the  fortress 
nearest  the  sea. 

Worn  out  with  the  extraordinary  fatigue  which 
he  had  undergone,  Hector  laid  himself    down  on 


18  HECTOR  AND  PETER. 

the  cold  stones,  and  soon  fell  as  fast  asleep  as  if 
he  lay  upon  a  bed  of  down.  He  was  awakened 
at  day-dawn,  on  the  following  morning,  by  the 
thunder  of  artillery,  and  from  the  tremendous  uproar 
on  all  sides  of  the  fortress,  he  concluded  that 
the  French  were  making  the  grand  attack  upon  the 
city.  In  a  few  hours  the  firing  ceased,  and  Hec- 
tor began  to  search  about  the  apartment  for  water 
tc  allay  his  raging  thirst.  He  could  find  none 
at  all.  All  was  silent  without,  save  the  dashing  of 
the  waves  as  they  broke  against  the  fortress.  At 
last,  his  thirst  increasing  till  he  almost  gasped  for 
breath,  he  threw  himself  on  the  floor  in  despair. 

How  long  he  remained  in  this  state  he  knew  not ; 
all  that  he  could  remember  afterwards,  was  a  con- 
fused ringing  in  his  ears,  and  a  heavy  oppressive 
feeling,  as  if  a  huge  load  was  laid  on  his  chest 
His  tongue  grew  black  and  swollen,  and  he  must 
soon  have  perished,  had  not  a  little  band  of  sailors 
come  to  his  relief.  They  broke  down  the  door  of 
his  prison,  and  seeing  no  one  in  it  but  a  person 
lying  on  the  floor  motionless,  they  hastily  conclu- 
ded that  he  was  dead,  and  were  hurrying  away,  when 
their  leader  called  them  to  stop,  and  going  towards 
the  body  began  to  examine  it.  Though  motionless, 
he  saw  that  there  was  still  life  ;  and  taking  it  up  in 
his  arms,  he  bore  it  from  the  dismal  place  to  a  more 
open  and  well  furnished  apartment.  Here  he  ad- 
ministered such  restoratives  as  he  could  command, 
and  had  the  pleasure  of  soon  seeing  his  patient 
revive  so  much  as  to  be  able  to  swallow  a  little  wine 
and  water,  which  he  administered  with  almost  femi- 
nine gentleness. 

When  the  prisoner  had  so  far  recovered,  he  anx- 
iously inquired  the  name  of  his  deliverer.     He  was 


DANGEROUS  SPORT.  19" 

told  it  was  Lieutenant  Peter  Bruff.  For  a  long 
time  Hector  was  at  a  loss  to  imagine  where  he  had 
seen  his  deliverer,  whose  features  and  name  were 
both  familiar  to  him,  flitting  before  his  eyes  with 
dreamlike  indistinctness. 

It  was  indeed  Peter  BrufT,  the  poor  fisherman's 
son,  who,  having  entered  the  naval  service  of  his 
country,  had  by  intelligence  and  good  conduct 
gradually  raised  himself  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant , 
and  no  sooner  was  the  fortress  in  the  power  of  the 
French,  than  he  sought  and  obtained  permission 
from  his  commanding  officer,  to  proceed  to  the  dun- 
geons to  release  the  captives,  of  which  he  well 
knew  there  were  many  confined  in  those  dark  and 
dismal  receptacles. 

When  Hector  discovered  who  his  deliverer  was, 
the  battle  on  the  beach  immediately  rushed  into  his 
recollection.  Mr.  BrufT,  too,  remembered  it  well, 
and  though  they  afterwards  often  laughed  heartily 
at  their  mimic  warfare,  Captain  Lebrun  declared 
that  the  lesson  which  had  been  then  taught  him,  he 
had  never  forgotten  ;  and  that  the  battle  on  the 
beach  had  been  of  more  use  to  him  in  his  progress 
through  life,  than  many  events  of  a  far  more  lofty- 
character. 


DANGEROUS   SPORT. 

Poor  Peter  was  burnt  by  the  poker  one  day, 
When  he  made  it  look  pretty  and  red  ; 

For  the  beatiful  sparks  made  him  think  it  fine  play. 
To  lift  it  as  high  as  his  head. 


BURNT   BY   THE    POKER.         rage  19. 


KISSING-  PAPA.  page  23. 


CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS.  21 

But,  somehow  it  happen'd,  his  finger  and  thumb, 
Were  terribly  scorched  with  the  heat ; 

And  he  scream'd  out  aloud  for  his  mother  to  come, 
And  stamped  on  the  floor  with  his  feet. 

Now  if  Peter  had  minded  his  mother's  command, 
His  fingers  would  not  have  been  sore  ; 

And  he  promised  again,  as  she  bound  up  his  hand, 
To  play  with  hot  pokers  no  more. 


CRUELTY   TO    ANIMALS; 

OR    THE    BOYS    AND    THE    SQUIRREL. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  vice  to  which  some  boys  arc 
so  much  addicted,  as  cruelty  to  the  brute  creation  ; 
they  seem  to  think  that  because  animals  can  not 
speak,  they  can  not  feel  pain  ;  in  this  way  an  old 
woman,  when  reproved  for  skinning  eels  alive, 
said,  "  Oh,  they  don't  mind  it ;  they  are  accustomed 
to  ir."  My  dear  little  reader,  I  was  once  like  your- 
self, a  child,  and  although,  thanks  to  a  kind  Cre- 
ator for  making  me  the  son  of  such  humane  parents, 
1  never  shared  in  such  cruel  sports,  I  could  not 
avoid  witnessing  the  cruelty  of  other  boys.  I  will 
now  tell  you  what  I  have  seen.  A  beautiful  little 
squirrel  was  on  a  bright  sunny  day  frisking  from 
bough  to  bough,  and  although  it  could  not  speak, 
plainly  showed  that  it  was  happy  and  thankful  for 
God's  blessings.  At  one  moment,  the  active  little 
animal  sat  perched  on  its  hinder  feet,  with  its  beau- 


22  CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS. 

tiful  tail  upraised  and  curved  gracefully  backwards, 
like  an  ostrich  feather  ;  then,  as  quick  as  a  bird, 
it  sprang  upon  another  bough,  and  after  skipping 
about,  it  ran  into  a  hollow  in  the  tree ;  unfortunately, 
at  this  very  moment,  a  wicked  boy  was  passing  and 
saw  where  it  entered  ;  he  immediately  climbed  the 
tree,  plugged  up  the  hole,  and  then  ran  to  call  some 
of  his  comrades  :  at  the  same  time,  he  whistled  for 
Towzer,  Rock  and  Pompey,  three  fierce  dogs.  Two 
of  the  boys  brought  axes,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  the 
tree  was  lying  on  the  ground. 

I  suppose  you  all  know  that  squirrels  destroy  a 
great  deal  of  corn,  for  they  open  an  ear  at  the  top 
eat  what  they  want,  and  then  leave  the  remaindei 
to  rot  from  exposure  to  the  weather :  indeed,  far 
mers  say,  that  whoever  kills  a  squirrel  in  the  spring, 
saves  a  bushel  of  that  year's  crop  : — these  naughty 
boys  probably  thought  so  too ;  but  they  were  not 
satisfied  with  killing  poor  little  "  Bunny,"  but  they 
wanted  some  fun  ;  so,  with  their  axes,  they  split 
open  the  tree,  and  took  the  poor  squirrel  prisoner  ; 
and  while  the  dogs  could  scarcely  be  restrained, 
one  of  these  hard-hearted  little  reprobates  held 
down  each  of  the  squirrel's  paws,  while  another 
cut  off  its  nails  close  with  a  knife,  to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  its  climbing.  He  who  held  it  then 
flung  it  away  ;  the  dogs  barked,  leaped  upon  it,  and 
in  a  few  moments,  the  little  frisker  was  torn  in 
pieces  ;  perhaps  it  might  have  been  a  mother,  and 
its  little  ones  died  of  starvation. 

My  dear  young  friends,  can  you  believe  that  a 
God  of  goodness  and  mercy,  and  who  delighted  in 
the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  would  look  down 
from  heaven  in  approbation  of  such  barbarity  1 
I  know  you  can  Dot. 


23 
PAPA'S    ADVICE     TO     HERBERT; 

OR    GOOD    RULES    FOR    LITTLE    B0Y8. 

My  Herbert,  when  next 

You  feel  rather  vext, 
And  something  has  happen'd  amiss ; 

Don't  set  up  a  roar  ; 

Such  folly  give  o'er, 
And  give  dear  papa  a  good  kiss. 

Whene'er  you  fall  down 

And  crack  your  poor  crown, 
Pray  get  up  as  fast  as  you  can ; 

Without  any  crying, 

Or  sobbing  or  sighing, 
And  then  we  shall  call  you  a  man 

When  grandmamma  calls, 

Give  up  bats  and  balls, 
And  quickly  your  lesson  begin; 

Endeavor  to  spell, 

And  try  to  read  well, 
And  then  a  good  name  you  will  win 

Be  gentle  to  sister, 

And  when  you  have  kiss'd  her 
Don't  give  her  too  bearish  a  squeeze 

But  love  her  indeed, 

And  teach  her  to  read, 
And  think  it  no  pleasure  to  teas© 

Don't  think  it  fine  fun 
To  scamper  and  run, 


ENIGMA. 

And  hide  yourself  under  the  bed  ; 

Take  care  of  your  ball, 

For  fear  it  should  fall, 
And  break  something  over  your  head. 

Your  hoop  you  take  pride 

Round  corners  to  guide, 
And  some  day  a  top  you  may  spin ; 

Away  from  the  pump 

Immediately  stump, 
When  nurse  says  it's  time  to  come  in. 


ENIGMA. 


First  take  a  word  that  does  silence  proclaim, 
That  backwards  and  forwards  does  still  spell  the 

same  ; 
Then  add  to  the  first  a  feminine  name, 
That  backwards  and  forwards  does  still  spell  the 

same  ; 
An  instrument  too,  that  lawyers  oft  frame, 
That  backwards  and  forwards  does  still  spell  the 

same — 
A  very  rich  fruit,  whose  botanical  name, 
Both  backwards  and  forwards  does  still  spell  the 

same — 
A  musical  note,  which  all  will  pioclaim. 
Both  backwards  and  forwards  does  still  spell  the 

same. 
The  initials  of  these,  when  joined,  form  a  name, 
Which  every  young  lady,  when  married,  will  claim, 
And  backwards  and  forwards  does  still  spell  the 

same. 


$ 


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sf  w  ■  Am 


TOY   AND    JUVENILE    BOOKS, 
Just  published  by  S.  Babcock,  IV.  Haven. 


C  The 
--'       I  he  Be 


Picture  Alphabet,  or  ARC  in  Rhyme. 
>k  of  Domestic  Aniinah. 

The  Twelve  Brothers;  or  the  History  of*  Joseph. 

Flowers  for  a  Juvenile  Garland. 

The  Village  Green  ;  or  Sports  of  Youth: 

Th*1  Life  of  Our  Savior. 

Passion  and  Punishment;  a  Tale  for  Little  Girls, 

Hymns  for  Children,  in  Prose. 

The  Sports  of  Childhood. 

The  Little  Book  of  Trades. 

Hook  of  Accidents;  or  Warnings  to  the  Heedless. 
L Child's  First  Lessons;  or  Infant  Primer. 

Simple  Poetry,  for  Girls  and  Boys. 

The  Little  Sisters  ;  or  Emma  and  Caroline. 

The  Infant  Primer;  or  Picture  Alphabet. 

Infant  Hymns;  designed  for  Young  Children. 

Little  Rhymes,  for  Little  Folks. 

Emma  and  Louisa  ;  or  Wealth  and  Poverty. 

Easy  Lessons  ;  or  Buds  and  Blossoms  of  Learning. 

Short  Stories,  with  beautiful  Pictures. 

The  Passionate  Child  ;  a  Story  about  little  Ellen. 

Bible  History  ;  or  Scripture  Stories. 

The  Poetic  Gift ;  or  Alphabet  in  Rhyme. 
I  Tell  I  ale  Stories,  for  good  Girls  and  Boys. 

d  fThe  Whale,  and  the  Perils  of  the  Whale-Fishery. 
|       The  Flock  of  Sheep  ;  or  Familiar  Explanations. 
H       Museum  of  Foreign  Animals;  or  History  of  Beasts. 
%       The  Child's  Own  Story  Book;  or  Simple  Tales. 
•<3       Child's  Own  Sunday   Book;  or  Sabbath-Day  Lessons. 
j   J   Sweets  for  Leisure  Hours;  or  Flowers  of  Instruction. 
J=   »  Little  Lucy;  or  the  Pleasant  Day. 

Little  Helen  ;  or  a  Day  in  the  Life  of  a  Naughty  Girl. 
The  Sun-Flower;  or  Poetical  Blossoms. 
Book  of  Bible  Stories. 
Little  Lotsous  for  Little  Learners. 
V  History  and  Anecdotes  of  the  Elephant.  , 
C  Animal  Riogrnphv:  or  Book  of  Natural  History. 
Mary  Richmond  ;"  a  Day  in  the  Life  of  a  Spoiled  Child. 
Instruction  atid  Amusement  for  the  Young. 
The  Little  Forget- Me-Not.     A  Token  of  Love. 
The  Snow-Drop:  a  Collection  of  Nursery  Rhymes. 
The  Little  Picture  Bible. 

Poetic  Gift ;  containing  Barbauld's  Hymns  in  Verse. 
The  Gift  of  Friendship  ;  seasoned  with  Instruction. 
S'Uct  and   Amusing  Anecdotes  of  Animals. 
1  he  Ruse- Bud;  or  Poetic  Garland. 
The  Canine  Race;  a  brief  Natural  History  of  Dogs. 
V.  Pictures  and  Stories  for  the  Young. 


H 


